


night-time you will be here and you will stay

by pinuspinea



Series: Swan Lake remixes [12]
Category: Swan Lake & Related Fandoms, Лебединое озеро - Чайковский | Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Happy Ending, Manipulative Relationship, Strong Woman/Weak Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:48:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27526411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinuspinea/pseuds/pinuspinea
Summary: I love this moment. Because, Odette doesn't know how important she is to Rothbart. She thinks that if she had drowned, he would have simply found another Swan Queen. She has no clue about her power over him (and now I'm thinking about an Odette that does, and uses it against him.)- Pure Anon
Relationships: Odette/Von Rothbart (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake), Odile/Prints Siegfried | Prince Siegfried (Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake)
Series: Swan Lake remixes [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824241
Comments: 11
Kudos: 10





	night-time you will be here and you will stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pure_Anon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pure_Anon/gifts).



> Oh, the wonder of NaNoWriMo and spending a few feverish days writing like mad because these ideas keep haunting your brain like old earworms from when you were six.

The first few times happen by accident. There is the time when she is curled up underneath a tree, looking at the sky, when her hand accidentally touches his. His eyes are quick to find her. They are hungry, always so hungry, and he looks hopeful.

Soon after that, he gives her the swan maidens. Soon after that, her heartache eases a little and she gains companionship in his creations, but she does not forget how he looked at her when she rose to her toes and kissed his cheek.

Out of curiosity, she comes to him increasingly often. Each time she comes to him willingly, relief floods his eyes and they grow softer.

He brushes against her, always pretending it is an accident, but she knows. She sees the way he wants her, the way he needs her, the way he is willing to do anything to please her.

The first few times happen by accident, but not the times after those. She has felt his betrayal before.

He should have to pay for what he did to her.

* * *

Her first experiment is to see how long he is willing to go for before he comes begging for her companionship. It is an experiment she is not particularly fond of, but that is what she must do to gauge how she should continue.

So, one evening when he probably expects her to come to him, she remains with her swan maidens in the reeds. They do their best to fill that hole in her heart, to make her world feel complete, but as much as Odette tries, they do not replace him.

It is hard to hold stern, hard to stop herself from going to him, but that is what she must do. Each night, she forces herself to stay with her loyal subjects, and each night she can feel him just a little way off, waiting for her to come, but she never does.

The same pattern continues for so long that Odette is almost mad with loneliness, but he is the one to break. He finally comes to her dwelling, scaring off her swan maidens, and he kneels besides her and touches her without asking for it and changes her back into a human.

"Have I done something to anger you?" he asks, his eyes searching her face. Odette's neck bends as she studies him. Her human eyes feel so different. She has grown so used to seeing the world differently. Now, his form is so clear in front of her.

Odette remains looking at him, and his anxieties finally rise to his face. She lowers her eyes, assured by the confirmation.

"I wanted you to come to me," she says softly.

His hand is practically shaking as he gently touches her face. Their eyes meet again.

"You don't have to ask for that," he murmurs, his thumb caressing her face in a gesture that is far more intimate than any of the kisses she has pressed onto his skin. "I will always come to you."

Blush does not rise to her cheeks, but satisfaction curls in her stomach to see him so weak before her.

* * *

After that night, she does not have to go to him. He is the one to find her, the one to enter her realm, and she transforms on the shores of her lake and looks at his growing devotion and wonders how far it will take her.

He is a slave to her, that much she finally understands. For years she thought that she was his prisoner, but now she can see that she has been holding him a prisoner just like she thought he was keeping her here.

She is the swan queen, she realises. She is the swan queen, and he is her most loyal subject. Without him, she would have never had this kingdom, without him she would have never found this strength in herself.

His hands never touch her without her permission, and he is constantly waiting for her.

Each kiss she lays on his cool cheek is enough to make him forget any of those thoughts and doubts that could be running through his mind. Each touch and time their fingers meet and lace is enough to make him think that one day she will become his.

She starts wondering what else she could make him do for her. He seems always ready to do whatever crosses her mind, but she does not hurry. There is no reason to hurry when she knows that he will do what she wants.

Eventually, she is certain enough that he will do what he asks. It just takes her a few more nights to convince herself of the fact.

He notices that something is laying a heavy weight on her mind, and he is there, waiting for her to speak once she is ready, his eyes telling her that he cares and that he is worried. She decides to push her luck again.

"I'm worried about the winter," Odette murmurs and lowers her eyes. He is close, his breath turning into clouds in that cool autumn weather she barely even feels anymore. She has become numb to these changes. Her body is no longer susceptible to such things as the nature withering and hiding under a blanket of cold, hasn't been bothered by it for years now, but the swan maidens have yet to experience their first winter.

She can feel his eyes studying her face, and she looks up at him.

"Will they feel the cold?" she asks him. He shakes his head.

"They won't," he murmurs. Odette swallows.

"How did you make them?" she asks in a small voice. He looks away from her then, but his eyes find the swan maidens in their white dresses and white feathers, always close enough to stop him if there is any danger to their queen.

He seems thoughtful, like he is wondering whether he should tell her the truth, but she takes his hand and stops him from thinking about it. His eyes return to meet hers.

"I just want to know they're safe," Odette murmurs and looks down at their joined hands.

He steps a little closer and laces their fingers, entwines them so that their hands touching cannot be thought of as an accident. Odette looks at him again with curious eyes and wonders how much more he will be willing to do for a kiss, how much more she could give to make him do whatever she wants him to do.

His breath is coming unevenly, and he is staring at her lips like he wants to claim them for himself, but that much Odette isn't ready to give if a few touches are enough.

He tells her, and she is almost surprised that he does. He speaks of magic she does not yet understand, but she listens to him and asks a few questions, though not enough to make him suspicious. He tells her of deep magic, forbidden magic, and she listens and thirsts to learn it herself.

Perhaps, she wonders, if she learns magic of her own she will be able to remove this curse and stop him from keeping her as a prisoner at the shores of this lake that will freeze over far too soon, leaving behind only a pale blanket of snow and a swan queen who will have to huddle away in the cold instead of floating gently on the waves that have carried her since she was far too young to know of magic and desire that could become so dangerous.

* * *

For a long time afterwards, not much changes. Odette does not dare raise his suspicious nature with too many questions. She rarely asks of his magic, and she rarely gives him gifts of her company.

Time passes and he gives her more swan maidens to be her companions, but eventually, she comes to realise that they will never quite fill the hole in her heart where her old life used to be. She misses other humans, true companionship and proper conversations, words that are not simply echoes of what she has known before. He offers her that, and she takes him up on that offer, and one autumn night when his hands and eyes linger, she looks at him and caresses his hand for a change.

The kiss he lays on her lips is devouring her, and his desperation is apparent, and when his eyes ask for permission, she gives it out of curiosity. His worship is complete and as slow as he manages it, and he worships her like old gods used to be worshipped in these forests before humans invented new ones.

Odette lays curled up against his body afterwards and draws circles onto his skin and wonders if she'll grow to miss this. His eyes are so soft, so very soft, and when her eyes even glance in the direction of his own, he steals kisses from her.

He does not say that he would do anything to have her come to his house and remain in his bed, but he doesn't need to. She knows it all the same.

"Would you allow me to kiss you more?" he asks in a quiet whisper in the stillness of the night. Odette looks at him and raises to rest on her elbows. He lays underneath her on the sand. It's not difficult to imagine what he is truly asking. His eyes hold that soft affection to her that they are always known to hold, but there is a completely new desire in them now. He has tasted the nectar of gods and is thirsty for more.

"Would you like that?" she asks even though she knows the answer, a slight curl to her lips. She wants to hear it all the same.

His lips curl as well as he lifts himself up just enough to pull her against his skin again.

They wait for the morning together, her dress crumbled and her hair a mess, his skin gleaming with sweat and him looking like a similar creature of the wild forest as she is. His eyes are straining to take her in like this.

"You don't have to stay here any longer," he murmurs, anxiously glancing at the sky.

Odette glances at it herself and hums.

"Perhaps I like the forest enough to stay," she murmurs and stretches with the rising sun. Light graces the bones of her cheeks and her eyelashes, and like a thousand mornings before this one, the magic washes over her and changes her.

He looks unhappy at her decision, but before leaving, she waddles over to him and looks at him.

His eyes are full of wonder as they caress her feathers, as he studies this form for the first time ever. His hands shake with the care of his touch, his eyes dart all over her, and Odette knows she has made the right decision in allowing him this. What else could ensure that he would be forever trapped by his love for her than showing what could be, what might one day be if he remains her loyal subject?

She leaves him before his need for her is completely satisfied, though he remains on the shore, his clothes creased and his hair wild and his eyes always, always finding her amongst the swans.

She hides within that cloud of white feathers and allows herself to fall asleep in the protection of her friends, his touch still lingering like a ghost on her skin, like his hands had never lifted, like she was still in his arms.

Her beak has never been kissed, her feathers have never felt the worship of his lips, but her lips and her skin have, and she keeps those memories hidden within that small part in herself that is not consumed by her need to control the man who only wishes to worship her completely.

By dusk, she is already in the reeds, waiting for night to fall, and when it does, she sinks into the low water.

She laughs like a madwoman as he finds her in the reeds and helps her out of the mud.

* * *

His spell does not unravel any further than that. It is frustrating, yet it keeps him more attached to her. He is now more uncertain of what might happen. Now she has the option to leave if she so wants, to fly away and enjoy her life as a woman during the nights, but that is not what she wants.

She wants complete control. She wants to be the one who unravels him, she wants to make him pay for what he did to her, and that cannot be achieved by leaving the lake.

That is not a thought that she shares with him. She must keep him on his toes, make certain that he is always guessing at what is going on in her mind, and the best way to do so is to keep her silence. He speaks more nowadays, and he even speaks of magic and what he has been studying during those days when she either takes to the sky or naps in the reeds.

Each night, he must make certain that she is still there, and she listens to him attentively and awards him occasionally with a few kisses, but never any more than that.

He tries to have more a few times, tries to caress her and pull her tightly against his body, but she pulls away and looks at him with those big eyes of hers, and he lets out a sigh that tells her more than enough. He needs her, he needs her more than he wants to let her know, but she is the one who makes the rules in their little game nowadays.

There are times when she wants to feel his love completely, wants to be certain that she still rules over him, and during those times, she gives a little more. Those days come and go, and each time, he manages to steal a few kisses more, a few more intimate touches. But he does not get to lay with her on the sand again and pull her tight against his skin, not when this is the reality that she still lives in. He does not get what he wants while her human eyes still long for the light of day and her skin remains only kissed by the moon and him, and never the sun.

That night, she lets the water lap at her feet and stands in the lake. He is uncertain, wondering whether to step into the lake or not, but she does not tell him what to do, not this time. This is a choice he must make for himself. It cannot be made for him.

The water ripples as he slowly wades to her, and he takes her hand and together they look at the moon. His hand is warm, not like these chilly waters of early spring.

"Why did you choose me?" Odette asks curiously. She has wondered about it before, wondered what made him so interested in her when she is certain that he has seen so many other spectacular things in his life, seen other beautiful girls than just her.

"You were curious," he murmurs. "Curious and thoughtful and so full of wonder."

His voice is uncertain. Odette looks at him and his hand in hers does not change its grip, but she knows that it would still linger like it always does were she to pull her hand away.

Instead, she kisses him, waist deep in the water, in the true depths of her realm, and his kiss is so hungry as he is finally allowed to have what he has wanted for such a long time. Their bodies melt together as if they had never been apart, and his worship makes her skin burn with the power of his desire, and she feels so alive when he is so helpless and so willing to sacrifice himself at her mercy.

It does not have to change anything, Odette tells herself. Nothing has to change just because she wants to feel his body against hers another time.

Nothing has to change, she tells herself each time after that when her curiosity makes her give into the temptation of him.

* * *

Their years pass in that game of hunt and prey, and she is surprised by how easily he accepts his role. She does not give into him so easily. He is her devotee, her true worshipper, the willing sacrifice to an old forest goddess, and she is pleased by the gifts he bears to her.

There are times when she wonders what the outside world looks like, times when she thinks about all those years that must have passed in such a haze, but those thoughts are only fleeting. Odette lets herself forget most things until there is only the lake and him and the swan maidens that he keeps around for her, each day leeching a little more of his magic just to make her satisfied.

She should not have ever forgotten how weak she is in her winged form, how fragile the feathers of a swan are. She should not have ever forgotten that hunters graze in these woods, but she did, and as the arrow pierces her wing and makes her fall from the sky, she is afraid for the very first time in such a long time.

* * *

It is a surprise when she wakes up at all. He is there, murmuring comforts and spells and weaving his magic into healing her, and her blurry thoughts are full of his desperation to keep her alive.

He holds her so gently and heals her and kisses her bruised hands and does everything he can. Odette looks at him and sees his worry and what she has known to exist for such a long time but what she has not allowed herself to ever think of before.

He loves her, she realises, loves her even as she now is.

She cries and he doesn't know how to comfort her.

* * *

His bed is easily large enough for two, Odette notes after a few days spent lying in it. He sleeps next to her like the dead sleep, completely unmoving, his breathing and heartbeat unheard, but he is alive.

The bed is large enough for two, and everything in the room is fitted around two people. There are two comfortable chairs by the window, space for two, everything prepared for two people, and she sees where he has left room for her.

She never imagined he would make his life ready for her to enter it at a moment's notice. She never realised how big of an impact she could have on his life, not while she lived at the lake, not while she used him like a toy and he always returned to her for more.

Shame fills her up as she looks at the room and as she looks at him. How could she have ever been so cruel as to toy with him like? How could she have ever been so cruel as to pretend he had not already atoned for his sins and paid for them?

Her sobs are interrupted by his hands wrapping around her. She didn't even notice him waking up. She has noticed so little.

"Are you in pain?" he asks. She shakes her head. Apparently, he draws his own conclusions from that. "It's only a few days. I don't want your arm to break with the transformation. It's just a few days."

"I don't care about that," she hiccups and turns her face away from him. He cannot understand where these tears come from. She has not wept like this in front of him for such a long time, not been so completely hopeless.

Everything ends eventually, and so do her tears as well. She feels sluggish and her face aches. He is looking at her as she curls up on his bed and looks blankly at his hands.

Slowly, he lays down with her. He is searching for her gaze, but her stomach turns as she even thinks about meeting it. How could she ever have been so blind? How could she have not understood how he is not the enemy anymore, the one to make the mistakes?

She has been horrible to him, and he doesn't even seem to notice it.

He lays down next to her and his arm curls over her waist. He breathes into her hair and she closes her eyes, knowing that her tired thoughts must reflect on her face and wondering how soon he will realise just what they have been stemming from. He cannot be completely blind, can he? He must notice this is guilt and no ordinary reason to cry.

But he says nothing, and so they remain, locked in an embrace in his bed, in a room that has been made for two but only ever inhibited by one.

* * *

"Am I selfish?" she asks and interrupts his reading. He puts the book down in his lap and looks at her curiously.

These past few days have been strange. Odette never thought her life would be like this, not with him, but life inside the house has been peaceful. On the one hand, she has been more on edge than she has been in years, but on the other, he has been doting and careful, and everything in him has only spoken of his care and respect for him.

"Humans are selfish creatures by nature," he claims. Odette frowns as she looks at him.

"Are they truly?" she asks uncertainly. He hums and nods.

"Animals do not want," he states. "They only live in impulses of what they need. They do not dream of anything more, they do not want, they do not ache, they do not desire. Animals simply follow their instincts, but humans want things constantly even when they do not necessarily need them. Being human means that you desire, and desire is what makes us human."

Odette considers his words as he weaves his fingers into her hair and runs them through it. He seems calm enough, does not seem to guess where her dark thoughts are coming from.

"You are not any more selfish than I am," he murmurs. "Some simply want a little more than others."

That is the problem, isn't it? Odette has been dangling his hopes right in front of his eyes for what must be centuries by now. She has been always hinting at the possibility that she could stay, could take his ring after all these years, has been keeping him a prisoner of her own. All these years she has thought of him as an enemy, but the truth is that out of the two of them, he has not been even close to being as selfish as she has been.

For a moment, Odette wonders if she should just stay in the house with him and end this horrible game of theirs. It would be easier. It would be so much simpler to just stay in the house and let him put that ring onto her finger, but she also knows that she would come to regret it.

It would be easier if she gave in and stayed here with him as his wife, but would they be happy with that?

"Do you ever feel like it would be easier to stop wanting?" she asks. He stills for a moment, but then his hand keeps moving in her hair. He is soft, his hand always so gentle, but this question has clearly taken him by surprise. Otherwise he would have already answered her. Otherwise he would have already said what he has to say, and Odette knows he is usually much smoother than this.

"It would be easier," he finally admits, "but I prefer my selfishness."

Odette thinks about it for a moment longer as he collects his thoughts. Before he has the chance to continue reading for her, she lays a hand across his lap and looks up at him properly. Their eyes meet. She studies his face carefully, looks for any signs of betrayal or lie, but there is no such thing to be found. He remains calm and open before her eyes.

She curls up against his body and keeps her hand resting on his thigh, her head in his lap, and his words are not steady as he continues reading to her.

* * *

In the middle of the night, she gasps awake and feels his breath on her neck. Even in his sleep, he instinctually tightens his grip on her and reminds her that she is never alone.

Odette looks at Wolfgang and wonders if he would wake up if she kissed him.

She doesn't dare to try such a thing.

* * *

The day comes when her arm is healed and her bruises have faded. Her legs are still a little uneven and she holds onto his arm as they make their way slowly to the lake. The sky is a dreamy grey. There is still time for many things to happen, but not this night, not while they both are too sore from the thought of separating.

They sit close to one another and do not say a single word to one another. Her hand is laced in his as they study the sky for signs of impending morning and wait for the sun to rise.

There would still be time to stay with him, Odette knows, she could still choose otherwise, but she doesn't.

Just before dawn, she kisses him.

Her hands turn to wings and her eyes see him in the daylight again, studying her with those dark eyes of his, always looking for her.

It's never been this hard to leave him on the shore.

* * *

Time is inconsequential for beings like the two of them, but it still passes. It has barely been a year since she stepped foot in his house for the first time, and now, she studies the house with eyes that are not as sharp as those she has during the nights.

He must be sleeping, resting so that he can spend the night with her. Odette swims over to the shore of the garden and looks at his house, and something inside her feels different.

She wonders if things would be the same if she stepped inside. She wonders if he would keep waiting for her for all eternity.

He probably would.

Odette swims back to the reeds and dozes off in the protection of her swan maidens.

* * *

Time is inconsequential, but not for all beings. Odette notices something changing, and it is not a thing that she thinks about for long, but eventually, she has to. She has seen other animals and how they act. She has seen how they behave.

She knows what will happen, but it is still difficult to imagine how he will react to this piece of news. He notices her thinking about deep thoughts, but he does not ask. He knows she will tell him eventually. She always does.

One night, when the moon is bright, Odette deems it the right time.

"Wolfgang?" she says. He hums and paints circles onto the thin skin of the back of her hands with his thumb. Odette bites her lip.

When she does not continue, he finally looks at her properly with the question apparent in his eyes.

"Could you confirm something for me?" she asks. He looks at her curiously, but he does nod his head.

Odette takes hold of his hand and nervously pulls it to her stomach. He stills for a long moment, but then she feels the tingle of his magic. From underneath his fingers, a light shines.

Their eyes meet. He looks far too shocked for words. She thought that he would always know what to say, would always know what to do, but he is too lost in the certainty of this to even form a thought coherent enough to say aloud.

He pulls his hand away eventually, and the light fades with it. His eyes go stare at the lake, and he is quiet, too quiet.

Odette wishes he would just say something, but he doesn't.

Time comes to a halt.

"You can't keep transforming," he says in a nearly broken voice. Odette looks at her lap. She's listened to his unaware lecturing about magic for all these years. She guessed that might be the case, but even so, it is a hard thought to swallow. She doesn't want to be forced into marrying him.

She thinks about the time she spent in his house, the days when her arm was healing, the days when they hid from the sun together and spent most of the time curled up together in his bed. She thinks about those days far more often than she would like to admit, and he probably hasn't guessed it.

"Would I stop transforming if we did it again?" she asks. "If I stayed in your house?"

He lets out a breath through his nose and seems to be thinking about it furiously.

"It's possible," he admits. "I think it was mostly to do with us living like a husband and a wife."

Living like that, but still not being forced to carry on with that afterwards. Odette thinks she could do it, if it would keep her and the child safe.

She wonders if the magic will hold true, if she must hide from the day. She wonders what the conditions of surviving through this might be. She wonders, but he does not have answers for her. This is magic he barely understands himself, and such magic is always tricky. Such magic always has hidden clauses in its contracts.

"There's no way to know for certain but to try, is there?" she confirms. He shakes his head.

That night, Odette says goodbye to her maidens and takes his hand when the dawn arrives, and for the first time ever, she steps into his house.

There is still a place carved in his life for her, room for her to spread into, a place in his bed.

The dawn breaks into morning. Hidden inside his room, neither sees it for sure. They simply lie on his bed, locked in an embrace, and his hand rests on her stomach as he feels for the life that is starting to bloom inside her.

* * *

He prepares for parenthood like it's a solemn duty. Odette has seen this caring side of him before, has seen him act like this, but she didn't think she'd see it quite so soon again. It's a surprise that anything would bring it out other than her deathly injury, but then again, she never thought about children before it became a reality to them. She never thought about having a family, never thought about becoming a mother, but now she has that almost constantly on her mind.

He prepares the house in a completely new way. Odette watches the way he fusses to make the nursery perfect for the child that he insists will be a girl, studies the way he ponders on these matters almost as seriously as if they were spells that he needed to perfect.

Life with him is surprisingly easy once she grows used to never waiting for the sunrise, instead hiding away from it. They learn the limits of what she must do to keep herself as a human. She misses the sun on her feathers, misses the way the lake feels during the days when the heat stems from above and coolness stems from below, misses flying.

There is time for that sometime later once their child is born.

She grows round and time is important again. He seems more agitated the rounder her stomach swells, but she does not worry too much. He has his magic. He has helped her through worse.

A night ends with a child's cry and her holding their daughter in her arms. A night ends with his soft smiles and singing to their daughter.

A day arrives, but she sleeps through the passing of dawn in his bed and doesn't stir when he stops at the door of his bedroom and watches her from there. She does not wake for many a long hour, not before afternoon is coming close to its end, not before he has already calmed down their child with goat milk and songs.

Her body aches in a completely new way as she stops by the crib he is bent over and studies their child properly. Odile is small, her dark hair peeking from the swaddling he has wrapped her in.

"How long will you stay?" he asks and glances in her direction. Odette looks at their child and gives her a finger. Even in her sleep, Odile holds on tightly.

"A day or two," Odette answers. He nods his head and seems satisfied enough with her answer.

A day or two is enough for him to heal all there is to heal, enough for her to get used to her body without the weight of Odile resting on her hips. It should be enough to grow used to the thought of leaving her all day alone with her father, long enough for Odette to get used to the idea of living as a swan again.

Odile holds on tightly to her finger and Wolfgang wraps an arm around her waist.

During the night, they walk over to the shores of the lake with Odile. The swan maidens meet them there, and they all study Odile curiously, the small child they had grown used to expecting.

Odile sleeps on, unaware of what is going on, and Odette looks at their daughter and knows how hard it will be to leave her with Wolfgang even if she trusts him implicitly.

* * *

It takes Odette almost three weeks to transform into a swan, but Wolfgang does not comment upon it. Instead, he wraps her tightly into an embrace during the hours of sleep they manage to catch in between Odile's anxious cries.

When she transforms, he has Odile in his arms. When she transforms, he has a small, nostalgic smile upon his lips.

But the next night, Odette returns to them, and the night after that, and the night after that.

* * *

There are days when Odette does not leave his embrace, days which she spends inside the house, too enchanted by the sight of their daughter. He always lets out a small breath of air when she does not get up to go greet the morning sun, always looks at her with a little too much relief in his eyes as she finds her spot in his bed.

Their daughter grows up knowing a mother that sometimes is there during the days and sometimes becomes a swan. Their daughter grows up knowing of a spell, only a spell and not a curse, grows up knowing a mother that is not quiet and afraid and too entwined in her own thoughts. Odile grows up with a mother that laughs and sings and looks at Wolfgang with something in her eyes that could be called fondness.

* * *

There is a world outside their forest, an entire world Odette has not thought about for many a long year, but eventually, he brings it up.

He tells her of the hunting party and of a king that her swans tore apart, of a prince that has grown up not too far from their lake, of people wondering about the mysterious man and his daughter and a wife that no one has seen. He tells her all this, and Odile plays with her toys, not paying any attention to the way Odette leans on the arm of her chair and then looks at the man she has known longer and better than she has known anything else.

"You could always invite people here," she says. He is quiet for a long time.

"How would I explain you to them?" he asks. Odette looks down at their daughter.

"Why explain, when they can draw their own conclusions?" she murmurs.

* * *

They have visitors who seem startled by the sight of Odette. She is paler than any of their visitors and hauntingly beautiful in the way wild birds are, and she never steps towards the doors.

Their guests draw their own conclusions. Odette and Wolfgang do nothing to explain.

They understand what they want to understand, and that is enough for the small family who call the lake in the forest their home.

* * *

When Odile is small, they rarely have time to be completely engrossed in a world of their own, but when they do, those moments are spent in furious kisses and heated embraces, in synchronisation that is otherwise almost unheard of. They steal those moments together, sometimes managing to sate their hunger for one another, sometimes simply managing to stroke the flames into a fiery inferno.

There are never any words spoken during those moments. There is no need for them, until there becomes one.

"Would you like another child?" he asks in between hurried kisses as his hands try to pull off her dress. She shivers against his body, wonderfully hot against him.

"Not – ah! – not yet," she manages to whisper back into his lips.

It is quite some time before they return to that conversation, and once they do, his face is closed off.

The night is still. Their daughter sleeps soundly. Nothing could interrupt this conversation, but when Odette looks at him, properly studies him, she wonders what about it has made him so closed off.

"Why were you thinking about another child?" she asks him, nudging his arm a little. He obligingly wraps it around her, but his face remains closed off and his eyes distant.

"I think it would be possible soon," he says in a quiet voice. "I think I can sense it."

Odette wonders when he learned the secrets of her body better than she did, but she's not surprised by it. Instead, she tries to catch his eye.

"I like my freedom too much, Wolfgang," she murmurs and kisses him cheekily. "Besides, can you imagine how little time we would have with another child?"

He cannot deny that.

* * *

Wolfgang spends some days at the court, making sure that they may remain peaceful in their own hidden nook of the world. Their visitors only come invited, and those days Odette spends guarding their daughter. In the evenings, when he returns home, he returns to a growing child who recounts the day in extreme detail to her father and a woman who kisses him softly.

Those nights Odette usually spends in his bed, and in the following mornings, she disappears into the dewy garden to greet the sun all by herself.

* * *

There is a prince. There is always a prince, a prince who grows up uncertain of himself, a prince who has a loyal advisor in Wolfgang, a prince that has such a heavy burden on his shoulders even at such an early age.

There is a prince who receives a silver crossbow for his birthday, a prince who loses himself in the forest, a prince who stumbles upon a lake of swan and sees one flying high on the sky, and he notches an arrow and aims but never shoots.

There is a prince who sees that swan land on the shore and spread her wings, and a man stepping out from the canopy of trees as her white wings turn into arms that the man takes and kisses.

The prince watches his tutor Wolfgang with the woman he has heard people speak about, the strange pale beauty that is his wife, and he tries to understand magic that cannot be comprehended.

Siegfried is too young to understand, but he is not too young to slip unnoticed back into the shadows of the forest and return to the castle, his head filled with a million thoughts that run wildly in his dreams.

* * *

Their daughter is young and full of life, and she wants to go to the ball.

In some other life, Odile would go there with a scheming father, but this is not that life. In this life, she gets dressed in black and red and rubies and gold, and she joins the carriage with her father dressed in his stark clothes and her mother dressed in those pale dresses of hers that rustle like feathers.

Odette and Wolfgang stand at the edges of the ball and watch their daughter, and the prince watches them from afar. In these lights that make the fabrics shine even brighter, his tutor and the pale woman at his arm stand out for their strangeness that they seem comfortable in. Their daughter is already quick at making friends. She talks eloquently and dances and catches so many men's attention, and eventually, Siegfried dances with her as well, mostly out of curiosity.

"It's odd your father has not taken you to the palace before," he speaks to the girl, Odile. From across the room, Wolfgang straightens his back and pays a little more attention to the prince who is dancing with the swan princess.

Odile laughs and her voice is like glistening bells.

"Oh, you would not believe how I had to persuade papa and mama to let me come," she says happily enough. "They thought I was still too young to leave the lake."

Siegfried glances in the direction of Odile's parents. Their heads are bent close. Wolfgang is whispering something to his wife.

"Your father's advice has usually been accurate," Siegfried admits.

Dancing with the daughter of his tutor is not nearly as awkward as dancing with those foreign princesses. She does not seem to care about him being a prince. She is simply happy to dance with everyone.

The clock strikes midnight. Wolfgang waits until the dance is over, and then he steps in.

"Your highness, it is high time my daughter returns to home," Wolfgang says. Odile looks pleadingly at her father.

"Just one more dance, papa?" she asks, her eyes bright and a soft, begging look on her face. "You haven't even danced with mama yet."

Wolfgang stills and looks at the pale woman at the edge of the room.

"I haven't, have I?" he murmurs, glances at Odile, and then returns to where he left.

The next song begins. Odile and Siegfried continue dancing.

Wolfgang bows to his wife. The woman looks at him curiously before taking his hand.

Siegfried thought that he had gotten stared at, but that was nothing compared to the stunned way people stare at Wolfgang von Rothbart and the woman on his arms. He is dressed in his black coat and looks harsh and cold and unyielding next to her, but there is a softness in his hands and eyes that is blatant to anyone who dares to look. Contrastingly, the woman at his arms looks pale and frail and too sickly to be out of their home for such a long time, yet as she dances, she seems to almost glide above the floor.

Siegfried thinks about the way he saw her fly before landing on the shore, and he stumbles in his steps a little. Odile gives him an amused look.

"They do make quite a strange couple, don't they?" she murmurs to him. The music stops anyone else from hearing her words.

Siegfried has to agree.

As all things do, the song ends. Wolfgang and his wife look at each before they bow to one another, and then they return to watching their daughter.

Odile thanks Siegfried for the two dances. She leaves with her parents.

Siegfried is left to wonder.

* * *

A surprise visitor arrives to the house a few days later. Life at the court has been busy enough that Wolfgang has been there almost every other day, much more often than usual, and because of that, he has barely had a single day with Odette ever since the ball.

The foreign princesses are still there, waiting for Siegfried to make his choice. The boy is still dallying with his choice, and Wolfgang cannot stop the sigh that comes out of his mouth as he sees Siegfried behind the main door of his house.

"Do come in, Siegfried," he tells the boy and leads him into the parlour.

The doors are open to the garden. The lake is shining brightly in the sun, and the swans are spread out on the waves. Wolfgang's eyes stop on Odette as they always do.

"Which one of them is she? Your wife?" Siegfried blurts out and looks horrified. Wolfgang turns to the boy. He stares at the boy for a painfully long time. It is long enough for Odile to wander into the parlour with a book in hand, and she stops in surprise at the sight of her father's icy stare and the prince's trembling form.

Her arrival is enough to stop them. Wolfgang steps back and glances at his daughter, and Siegfried also nods politely to the girl. She looks at the two men with a raised eyebrow.

"She isn't my wife," he says calmly enough. The prince stares back at him, then at Odile who settles easily enough onto a chair and seems to be studying the thick tome resting in her lap.

"But isn't she her mother?" Siegfried asks dumbly. Odile looks up from her book.

"I'm quite sure marriage is not a requirement in that," she notes dryly.

Wolfgang gives his daughter a look that makes her turn her eyes back into her book, but they all know it's a momentary respite. Odile is clearly staying in the room just to listen to their conversation, and trying to get her to leave them would be a fool's errand. That is what eventually makes Wolfgang sit down. Finally, Siegfried follows the von Rothbarts' example.

The prince keeps staring at his tutor. He seems completely oblivious to the heavy tome of spells that his tutor's daughter is studying, completely oblivious to such facts that could explain the situation to him or even warn him of what could happen should he choose his words unwisely.

Wolfgang sits there, seemingly comfortable with the silence. Siegfried twitches a little.

"I thought everyone called her your wife," Siegfried eventually mumbles.

"What people say is not necessarily the truth," Wolfgang reminds him. "They have seen Odette here and that made them draw their own conclusions. Who am I to deny such a convenient explanation?"

Siegfried thinks about it a moment.

"How does she do it?" he asks. "Transforms into a human?"

"She has always been a human," Odile states and turns a page. Siegfried nearly jumps out of his skin. He had apparently forgotten the girl.

"But I saw her," Siegfried insists. "She was a swan."

"She was a human long before she ever became a swan, and human she has been more than she has been a swan," Wolfgang answers. His eyes stray towards the open patio doors. The days are long during the summer, but once night comes, it comes quickly. Siegfried didn't even realise how far the sun had already been when he knocked on the door. He hadn't even realised that night would come quite so quickly.

Siegfried glances outside and looks at the swans. It's impossible to tell which one of them is this Odette, the strange woman who is not Wolfgang's wife yet is the mother of his daughter.

Siegfried is more than confused about it all, but he knows better than to ask. Wolfgang is cool and collected like he is with most other people. Right now, he isn't the man who Siegfried has been trusting in, but a man who is prepared to protect his family.

Siegfried has never seen his tutor like this, but he has heard him talk of his family before. He has known for a good while that Wolfgang would do anything for them. But right now, Siegfried realises how the man is preparing to protect them, and he realises that he is the threat to their family's happiness.

The last golden rays of light shine into the room, and then they are gone. Siegfried swallows and glances at the doorframe. In a few moments, a woman appears there, a pale woman he has seen before, a strange woman who steps inside the house as if it were her home and sits down next to Wolfgang and takes his hand, and Wolfgang kisses it.

Odette is looking at him with unreadable eyes.

"A prince," she says and glances at Wolfgang.

"The prince," the man answers as if they had spoken of this before. Siegfried swallows nervously. Odette seems curious of the sight, but it does not move her. Siegfried guesses that not much could move such a strange creature as her.

Her eyes are wide and hold so many secrets that they make Siegfried feel dizzy.

"How does it work?" he asks, wanting to know. "How do you become a swan?"

Odette glances at Wolfgang. The man is frowning a little. Their language is the language of gestures and glances, not the language of words and voices. He seems calmed by her presence. An edge disappears, a sharpness is softened by the presence of her, but she is a wild thing that is barely tamed by the presence of her devoted consort and their daughter. Siegfried doesn't think anything could tame her.

"The same way any magic works," Odette answers. "With intention and emotion."

The swan queen studies the prince and he isn't sure what she is looking at, what has drawn her attention, but he does know that something in her is far more dangerous than in Wolfgang or their daughter.

He swallows as she smiles and moves her fingers slightly.

* * *

The disappearance of the prince is all anyone speaks of. In their hiding place from the world, the von Rothbarts wait and bide their time as the news becomes a rumour, then pushed aside because of more important things.

The foreign brides leave. Wolfgang returns to spend most of his time at the house by the lake.

The prince seems happier with none of his responsibilities pushing down on him, Wolfgang notes. He seems much more at ease with himself. Odile's company has done him good. Wolfgang is still unsure why exactly Odette chose him for their daughter, but he has to admit that their companionship has calmed down Odile's flights of fancy and brought some much-needed confidence to the former prince.

Wolfgang does not still quite understand just how Odette managed to shrug that spell off and attach it to Siegfried, but he does not question it. Odette has listened to his monologues and musings about magic. She must have picked up something. She certainly is cunning enough for that.

Nowadays, Odette wears her feather dress only when she wants to. She still is an apparition far rarer than any jewel, a woman strange enough to raise questions, but she also carries her power with elegance.

Odile is quiet in her own way, now, spending more time at the lake and comforting Siegfried who still misses home.

One day, their daughter will have a fine husband in Siegfried, Wolfgang thinks, one day Siegfried will make her as happy as Odette has made him.

He smiles at his Odette. Their eyes meet, and her eyes twinkle with a thousand hidden depths as she studies his oldest tomes and learns more magic.


End file.
